


The Diablerie

by thateliz



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternative Character Interpretation, Gen, gen - Freeform, new life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 05:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16361993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thateliz/pseuds/thateliz
Summary: Raindrop Cake adjusts to new life in this strange household.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fic request from tiny-rabbert on tumblr. She wanted a chaptered Raindrop fic, and flooded my inbox with a list of what it should contain. So I suppose that makes me her ghostwriter, lol. Detailed requests like that are great.
> 
> tiny-rabbert, get well soon! Hospitals are boring, so I hope this cheers you up! :)

 

_Prologue_

 

Warmth greeted his senses as he emerged from a void he could not describe, nor recall.

Hearing came with the sounds of trees waving its branches in the wind as if welcoming him. Its scent, fresh, mingled with the smokiness of embers that slowly died, returning to nothingness in his place.

When cognisance dawned it brought forth the enfeebling despair of his memories, bitterly cold, painfully sharp. This was not a rebirth, but a cruel continuation of the last. A life restarted, but not reset.

‘Hello.’

Sight came last, showing him something both familiar and not: a human. A master. 

‘Can you speak?’ 

He saw none of the expected dismay or revulsion. But it would come soon enough, he was sure. 

‘Poorly,’ he said. ‘And in this state, as with everything else.’ 

The woman came closer, her sharp gaze creating an indelible impression that made him feel vulnerable. 

‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ she said. ‘What’s your name?’ 

‘I am Raindrop Cake, master.’ 

‘Well, then.’ Without hesitation his new master grasped the bars of his wheelchair, this sorry representation of his worth, and introduced him to the activity of her life. 

‘Welcome to your new home.’ 

 

-<>- 

 

> _Good for the body and Souls: the recently renovated Diablerie at 2000 metres is always worth a visit. Perched on a rock, our deck restaurant offers a magnificent vista as a backdrop to the culinary delights within! You’ll come for the beautiful sites but you’ll stay for the delicious, heartwarming food._

 A gust of autumn wind sent the brochure to the footrest of a wooden wheelchair, interrupting the thoughts of its brooding occupant. Leaves danced in the air along with more brightly coloured papers, some landing on the grass, but most went flying into the edge of the trail, over the cliffs. 

Raindrop Cake reached for the paper on his feet and, seeing it was for the restaurant, resignedly attempted to pick up the other pieces from the ground. 

‘Goodness, Raindrop,’ said the approaching Yuxiang. ‘Were the adverts so awful that reading them drove you to the edge of this cliff?’ 

‘No,’ said Raindrop in his usual soft-spoken manner. ‘The view is pleasant, that’s why I’m here.’ 

‘Really,’ said Yuxiang. ‘Then you’ll appreciate the colours on this brochure, at least. Hotdog painted the western view. Beautiful picture, isn’t it?’ 

‘Yes, she is a brilliant painter.’ 

‘But this terrible writing ruins it.’ 

‘It’s not bad.’ 

‘But…?’ Yuxiang prompted. She smiled when Raindrop hesitated to elaborate. ‘No need to be polite. Hotdog and I didn’t write these. But really, what did you think of it?’ 

‘Does it matter what I think?’ 

‘To this silly family it does. Unfortunately we’re allowed to have an opinion around here.’ 

Raindrop absorbed the thought. 

‘That… is rather strange,’ he said. He looked at the brochure again. ‘It’s not bad. I suppose the wording is a bit too enthusiastic, but it’s not bad.’ 

‘Well, “not bad” is still not good,’ Yuxiang said. ‘To the bin it goes, then. As for you...’ 

Raindrop braced when his wheelchair was pulled and turned away from his quiet place. ‘Madam Yuxiang—’ 

‘You’re coming with me.’ She steered him to the direction of the house. ‘It’s too windy for you out there anyway. Now, instead of wasting that intelligence by sulking, why not help Plum and I with the paperwork?’ 

‘Of course, but... I’m not sure I can help with anything, really...’ 

The closer they got to the house the deeper Raindrop’s frown became. Hammering, drilling, and the occasional shouting from the renovations jarred on his senses, and had caused the terrible mood he’d been in since morning. 

‘Oy, Rainy!’ greeted Tempura, who was carrying stainless steel rail posts and a large box of Ordinary Screws. ‘Good to see you roaming about outside today! How are you feeling?’ 

‘I’m well, thank you for asking. And you?’ 

‘I’m great, in every sense of the word.’ Tempura widened his grin. ‘We’re almost finished with the renovations! I know it’s because I’ve been so diligent with the delivery of materials. Miso even said that I must be the greatest beast of burden he’d seen.’ 

‘Erm…’ Raindrop faltered. Correcting him wouldn’t feel right, but agreeing was simply wrong. 

‘I mean, I can carry a dozen of these with one arm.’ 

‘Er, yes. Of course.’ Raindrop turned to the woman behind him. 

But she was not even trying to hide her amusement. ‘Are you helping with material crafting too, Tempura?’ 

‘No, only our master can make stuff with all those machines. But only I can carry the raw materials from the marketplace quickly and efficiently!’ 

Then to Raindrop he said, ‘Oh, yeah, the deck’s been remodelled. It’s got grab rails now and that sloping bit on the door so you shouldn’t have to go round the back to see the view. Brilliant, I tell you. You’ll enjoy it.’ 

‘I’m sure I will,’ said Raindrop, disquieted. The renovations had started before he’d arrived and, to his initial observation, should have been completed sooner. ‘But where is the need when most of the customers are able-bodied tourists?’ 

‘The grans living nearby are always complaining about the steps. Ask Yuxiang here, she’s got a record of those from the suggestions box.’ 

Yuxiang shrugged. ‘Yes, that, and the fact their husbands can’t carry them like they used to. They complain about everything, really. The decor, the lighting, the seats on the viewing deck…’ 

‘But none of them require wheelchair access,’ said Raindrop. ‘I’m sorry, but this consideration for my mobility is fruitless since I can’t repay it with labour. I’d much rather not inconvenience you all further when I’m already such a burden.’ 

‘Eh, don’t think that way, man,’ said Tempura. ‘I say it’s thanks to you that the entire household can chill in that deck now, and I mean all of us. Not really fun if someone’s missing, y’know—’ 

‘Tempura! ’kin’ell, are you bringing those screws or not?’ was the shouting heard from above. Suspended on the scaffolding was Yellow Wine, glowering at them. ‘This post isn’t going to weld itself! If I get any more shit from that uptight little git about schedules again I’ll fucking chin you.’ 

‘Oy, don’t swear too much, yeah? You’re scaring Rainy here.’ 

‘That’s right,’ said Yuxiang. ‘Might make him even more ill.’ 

‘But I wasn’t… I just…’ Yellow Wine’s alarm turned into a scowl at seeing Tempura and Yuxiang’s obvious amusement. ‘Well, try looking for the fucks I’m giving. Hurry up!’ 

‘Yeah, I’ll be up there.’ Tempura adjusted the load on his shoulders. ‘Don’t mind him too much, Rainy. He’s all bark, that one,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you two later.’ 

Raindrop could hear Yuxiang humming soft notes as she brought him to the other side of the building, where Chocolate’s rose garden had been turned into a makeshift office. 

They manoeuvred around the boxes of record books on the ground, Yuxiang closing the drawers of several wooden filing cabinets that blocked their way. Raindrop parked his wheelchair before a large desk, which held several stacks of papers that kept its occupant hidden from immediate view. 

‘Were you able to retrieve the brochures?’ Plum Juice asked, eyes on his work, his gentle tone complemented by the ambient music playing on the gramophone. 

‘I didn’t bother,’ said Yuxiang, pulling the other office chair with her long tobacco pipe. ‘Most of it flew over the cliff.’ 

‘We haven’t seen that batch. Have you at least saved one of them?’ 

‘Raindrop here did. And he thinks it’s rubbish.’

Plum looked up. ‘Oh, hadn’t noticed you there, Raindrop, I’m sorry.’ He scanned the brochure that Raindrop placed before him. ‘It does sound rather forceful. Absolutely not the impression we should give to our guests.’ 

‘Don’t be so glum, dear Plum,’ Yuxiang said. ‘Raindrop is here to save us.’ 

‘Really,’ Plum Juice said, relieved. ‘We appreciate your help very much. I can’t stress it enough.’ 

‘I’ll try not to be a nuisance,’ Raindrop said. 

‘Oh, hush,’ said Yuxiang, pushing a stack of papers before him. ‘Here, this one’s yours.’ 

Hours later the stack became three piles as Raindrop assessed not only the proposed adverts but also the week’s records of financial expenditure and other receipts. 

Yuxiang jokingly offered him a spare pipe if he wanted a quick smoke. 

‘You’re very thorough,’ Plum said. ‘Have a break, at least. Would you like me to help you to the ice room? The contoured benches have been installed this morning.’ 

‘No, thank you. I’m fine,’ said Raindrop, frowning at the black cardboard in his hands. 

‘What is it?’ Yuxiang’s seat rolled to a stop behind his wheelchair.  

> _The Diablerie is a 15-rank restaurant serving polished Lost and Gloriville Cuisine dishes crafted from the finest ingredients._
> 
> _Located on the top of the Ring Road trail, only a 30-minute hike from Parisel, it is the main starting point for climbs to the Eastern High Mountain – an idyllic spot for a refreshing drink on longer hikes, a leisurely lunch or a rustic dinner._
> 
> _Hours:_
> 
> _Lunch 12 - 2pm |_ _Dinner 6.30 - 10pm_  

Plum Juice looked amused. ‘What do you think of it, Raindrop? The gold etchings on the corners give it a nice touch, doesn’t it?’ 

‘It _is_ a little generous with the design.’ 

‘Feels like a invitation than an advertisement.’ 

‘A bit pretentious, isn’t it?’ said Yuxiang. ‘For a mountain diner that chips and pork crackling built. Oh, but I adore the calligraphy. Shame I recognise the pompous hands that made them.’ 

Mortified, Raindrop looked at the windows of the building to make sure that no one had heard. 

‘Don’t worry, the sun is still up,’ said Plum. ‘He won’t be anywhere near.’ 

‘Good afternoon.’ 

Raindrop jolted, feeling a pang of embarrassment at being panicked by the voice. 

Zongzi crossed the garden, with Brownie pushing a tea trolley a few steps behind. ‘Ah, Raindrop Cake. I am glad to see you have grown bored of your room, and that you are well.’ 

‘Thank you,’ was all Raindrop said. 

Yuxiang brightened at seeing the variety of dainty petit fours. ‘Oh, these are lovely, Brownie. Looks delicious.’ 

‘Absolutely, Madam Yuxiang,’ said Brownie, quickly serving the refreshments. ‘The master has been experimenting with Mr Pastel, and they’ve created this lighter assortment that Mr Raindrop can enjoy.’ 

‘How very thoughtful of them.’ 

‘Indeed,’ said Zongzi. ‘Excessively generous, in my opinion.’ 

‘You must be delighted,’ Plum said to Raindrop. ‘Now you can join those colourful tea ceremonies that she and Crepe are so fond of—oh, thank you, Brownie.’ 

‘Mr Raindrop?’ Brownie asked, noticing that Raindrop didn’t touch the tea and cakes. ‘Are they not to your liking?’ 

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Raindrop picked up the teacup and the delicate scent teased his nose. ‘It’s very nice. Thank you, Mr Brownie.’ 

‘Of course, sir. Please let me know if anything is unsatisfactory. The master would appreciate your feedback as it will help improve the dish.’ 

Raindrop shook his head, bemused. ‘I have no right to even think of criticising anything.’ 

Zongzi watched him. ‘Since these were created out of concern for your condition you are obliged to say what you think of it, satisfactory or not. That is the best way to repay their efforts.’ 

‘But I…’ Raindrop looked away. ‘I understand, sir. I’ll sample the food, as is expected of me.’ 

Yuxiang gave his arm an encouraging pat. ‘You’re actually the perfect tester because your taste buds are so sensitive.’ 

Plum said, ‘But you should know, our Master and Pastel de Nata are a bit… _keen_ on perfecting their recipes. I suggest to write down your thoughts – detailed thoughts, that is. Flavour, texture, the like. With scores in decimals. Leave no crumb untasted.’ 

Yuxiang chuckled. ‘Don’t frighten him, Plum.’ 

‘It’s fair advice.’ 

‘Well, he’s not wrong,’ said Yuxiang to Raindrop. ‘They _are_ mad—’ 

‘Yuxiang,’ Zongzi warned. 

He was ignored. ‘—so you’ll tell me before you go to them, okay? I’ll accompany you.’ 

‘Or you can ask Napoleon,’ said Plum. ‘He’ll be thrilled to have your notes as valid reason to go there.’ 

‘I must object,’ Zongzi said. ‘Napoleon is prohibited from entering the test kitchen for a reason. We can’t have his voracious appetite disrupt their work a second time.’ 

‘I’m sure he’s already learnt his lesson and won’t do it again. Let the poor lad eat cake.’ 

‘He may eat cake as we do: only after being told which ones we’re supposed to.’ 

Yuxiang let out a smoke-filled sigh. ‘Oh, you’re so very uncompromising, Zongzi, really.’ 

‘Yes, I can be, especially if I find myself having to remind all of you that it’s our duty to comply with the master’s rules and decisions without question.’ 

‘Of course,’ Yuxiang said. ‘Brownie, enough fussing in that trolley, please. Come and sit. Have you already tried these?’ 

Brownie nodded. ‘The master has allowed me to assist them yesterday. I’ve had the privilege of trying the first batch.’ He served Raindrop another set. ‘These ones are specifically for you, Mr Raindrop.’ 

‘Quite a lot, isn’t it,’ Yuxiang said. ‘You don’t have to eat everything, Raindrop. Even with lighter ingredients it might be a bit too much.’ 

Raindrop looked at the rectangle plate, at the six kinds of mini pastries aligned on it. For one person it would be a little filling, he agreed. ‘I think I must have a bite of each, at least. That way I’ll have something proper to write down.’ 

Zongzi gave him a pen and a few sheets of paper. ‘If in case the pastries become overwhelming I have prepared a different blend of leaves to cleanse your palate.’ 

‘Better have that one, Raindrop,’ said Plum. ‘Zongzi makes excellent tea, and the master loves them. It should also help those pastries assimilate. You haven’t got Napoleon’s stomach, after all.’ 

‘I suppose I should try that,’ Raindrop said. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘I’ll put another kettle on,’ Brownie said. 

After their third pot of tea, Zongzi glanced around the chaos of the temporary office, at the teetering stack on the desk in particular. ‘Our files need a bit of sorting, it seems.’ 

‘A few of them will be binned,’ said Plum Juice. 

‘I see. Will the adverts be ready tonight for our master’s perusal?’ 

‘We’re not quite convinced about the quality of the submissions, so perhaps not tonight.’ 

When Zongzi looked disappointed and was about to say as much, Yuxiang said, ‘I know you’re very eager to report to your precious lady, but surely you wouldn’t want her restaurant to be presented poorly by a rushed advert now would you?’ 

‘However you may mock my dedication to my lady it will not disprove the fact that your task is already weeks overdue.’ 

‘We are aware,’ said Plum politely. ‘I suppose I’m to blame. I’ve been occupied with the revisions to the building plan. It was a vastly different design; the original adverts wouldn’t have reflected the current look of the restaurant at all.’ 

‘That means we had to ask everyone for their ideas a second time,’ said Yuxiang. ‘And most have sent theirs only this week, exactly while the office is being painted.’ 

‘I understand,’ Zongzi said. ‘Thank you for explaining it to me. I meant no offence to your efficiency.’ 

‘None taken.’ Yuxiang smiled. ‘Pudding says we can go back to the office tomorrow, so we’ll be finished with all this soon enough. Raindrop’s here to help too. We’re actually working faster because of his input.’ 

‘Very good,’ said Zongzi, rising from his seat as Brownie started to gather the plates. ‘It’s appropriate to make oneself useful when one is so favoured and given the privilege of living in a comfortable home.’ 

Raindrop said nothing as the pair left, keeping his attention on writing. 

‘Seems to me the old retainer is a bit jealous of you, Raindrop.’ Yuxiang piped in. ‘He was being needlessly severe.’ 

‘You must forgive him,’ said Plum. ‘Our household is growing; managing everything and everyone in it must be trying his patience. I hope he didn’t upset you.’ 

‘No, not at all,’ said Raindrop. ‘He was being fair by saying I should earn my keep.’ 

‘Glad to know that you’re sensible. You’ll get on with him, I’m sure. He’s a little strict, but he’s a good soul.’ 

‘Unless it’s about the master, of course,’ said Yuxiang. ‘Bit of a zealot, that man. You don’t want to know what happened to Miso when he’d been found naked in her room.’ 

Raindrop looked at her dubiously. 

‘Oh, it’s not what you think,’ Yuxiang said. ‘It was summer and the ice room was full. The master’s bathtub is large, you know.’ 

‘Story for another day,’ said Plum, standing up. ‘We should go inside. I can hear quacking and that means the master is back.’ 

Yuxiang gasped merrily. ‘Plum! I didn’t know you had such a low opinion of our master’s way of talking.’ 

Plum shook his head, grasping the back of Raindrop’s wheelchair. ‘Let’s just go.’ 

 

-<>-

 

‘What a circus,’ said Yuxiang. 

Their master had arrived with ten souls, half of them barely conscious with the other five bearing their weight. Plum Juice and Miso Soup immediately ran to them and assessed the injuries, the latter shouting for Tempura to bring every sort of canvas that they could use as a stretcher. 

As the grounds of the house turned into a field hospital Raindrop noticed their master hobbling ahead of the group, face streaked with dried blood and legs heavily muddied. She ignored everyone who enquired after her, even the worried Zongzi, walking past him and into the house. 

After a while she emerged again, looking moderately clean in fresh clothes and carrying her largest purse, with Zongzi and Brownie still following her. 

‘Master, I beg you, allow us to tend to your wounds—’ 

‘Coffee!’ she called instead, still ignoring Zongzi. ‘Will you please move faster? It’s a long ride.’ 

The said man looked amused as he eased into his overcoat while carrying hers. ‘You don’t normally use that tone whenever you say those words.’ 

‘Oh, don’t get clever with me now.’ 

‘Master, where are you going?’ Zongzi asked, moving after her again. 

‘To the guildhall, why else would I be hurrying at this hour? Always asking daft questions, you ridiculous man.’ 

‘…it seems I do have that habit. Please forgive me.’ 

Raindrop saw the woman stop and then turn around with a visibly different expression. 

‘I’m sorry, Zongzi. That was a very horrid thing I’ve said.’ 

Then she turned to the others, nodding at Raindrop when she noticed him. It was a fleeting glance and he hadn’t the chance to respond. 

She had one look at her injured souls and her face darkened again. ‘Brownie, please have the cylinders prepared.’ 

‘As you wish, master.’ 

Zongzi’s confusion vanished, realisation taking its place. ‘Of course. They will be ready upon your return. Please be careful in town.’ 

‘We will, thank you.’ 

‘Keys?’ Coffee said. ‘We actually need that to start the bike.’ 

Zongzi took out the keys to their fastest and biggest bike, then tightened his grip when Coffee reached for it. ‘These winding roads are made for hiking, not for two people on a motorcycle. So don’t show off. Don’t overspeed.’ 

‘And if she wants to go fast? Can’t very well deny my master’s orders now, can I?’ 

‘If you have any sense at all, you would.’ 

Their master looked at them wearily. ‘Please, that’s enough from the both of you. We have to go.’ 

‘Coffee,’ said Zongzi. ‘Protect our master at all cost.’ 

‘That goes without saying. How dramatic of you,’ Coffee said. 

When their master turned away to wear her helmet Coffee’s face lost all traces of humour. ‘I’ll keep her safe,’ he said. ‘Even from them.’ 

Curious to know what that meant, Raindrop watched them. He felt he could empathise with their master’s annoyance as Brownie lifted her to the bike while Zongzi fastened protective pads on her elbows and knees. 

‘Honestly, you two,’ she said. ‘You fuss too much.’ 

‘We must, because you are still injured,’ said Zongzi, wiping her cheek with an antiseptic cloth. ‘Have I got no chance of persuading you to rest instead?’ 

‘Those academy merchants are in the marketplace only once a month, you know that.’ 

‘Yes, but in the markets their units are exorbitantly priced—’ 

‘I refuse to wait for the guild’s inadequate provisions,’ she said, tone not allowing any further argument. ‘I wouldn’t bother with this trip if they allowed food souls to trade with them in the first place.’ 

Zongzi stepped back. ‘Then I shall try to keep the house in order while you are away.’ 

‘You always do,’ she said, her eyes on the medic souls and their slowly-healing patients. ‘Better than I could.’ 

‘They’ll be all right,’ Coffee said. ‘Have a look – Tangyuan’s flying on her fish, probably to slap them awake with good luck.’ He revved the engine. ‘Ready?’ 

‘Yes. Let’s stop by the guild office first.’ She grasped his shoulders. 

‘It will be a bumpy ride, master,’ Brownie said. ‘I recommend keeping your arms tightly around Mr Coffee so you wouldn’t fall.’ 

‘That’s rather contradictory, Brownie,’ Coffee said. ‘She’s more likely to fall if she holds me.’ 

Their master sighed. ‘Enough with the cheek and just drive, please.’ 

A few minutes after they left the injured souls began to stir. Raindrop noticed the other souls coming out of the house, most of them having kept out of sight while their master had been wordlessly prowling about the property like a seething Tsuchigumo. 

He felt Yuxiang’s weight on the back of his wheelchair. 

‘I’m worried about the master,’ she said, exhaling smoke from the side of her mouth. ‘She’s been so distant. I mean she’s not really the cheerful sort but she hardly talks to anyone these days.’ 

‘But she seems so equable,’ Raindrop said, careful not to disagree. ‘Even when displeased she’s still so… moderate, as though nothing can shake her. Or perhaps I’m just too slow to notice anything...’ 

‘You’re not,’ she said, looking at him. ‘Earthquakes can’t topple a mountain, that’s true. But you know, there might be cave-ins somewhere we don’t see.’ 

Raindrop had to agree. 

He watched Miso Soup unfold a scroll that floated and glowed, then flickered out and dropped to the ground. ‘Is there anything I can do to help? With the wounded, I mean…’ 

‘Not much the both of us can do,’ Yuxiang said. ‘Don’t worry, Miso is a competent healer despite his constant larking about.’ 

‘Er, that’s not what I—’ 

‘Oh, Raindrop, not everyone deserves your good opinion,’ Yuxiang said with a smile. ‘Let’s stay for a bit just in case they need anything. And we must take note of everything that happens around here, after all.’ 

Pancake appeared behind the nearest tree. ‘The boss gone?’ 

Yuxiang raised a brow at him. ‘Have you been hiding there all this time?’ 

‘Yeah. Best to get lost when the boss is pissed off,’ Pancake said. ‘I mean, the ducklings were crying because the boss didn’t pick ’em up when they greeted her—oh, hey Raindrop, want some crisps?’ 

‘No, thank you.’ 

‘Man, you’ve gotta eat more. Get some colour on ya,’ said Pancake, chewing. He pointed to the wounded team with his chin. ‘What happened to them anyway?’ 

A furious yell from the group answered for him. 

‘I think we’re about to find out,’ Yuxiang said, as the previously unconscious Boston Lobster attempted to sit up on the makeshift stretcher bed, glowering at his healer. 

‘Keep your hands off me. They burn!’ 

Miso jumped back when a giant claw materialised in front of him. ‘Okay, okay, calm down, my friend. I’m only trying to heal you. If you could lean back so I can—’ 

‘I said your hands are too hot! How will you heal me when you’re also trying to blister me?’ 

Plum turned to them. ‘Miso, you take care of Tom and Tofu. I’ll handle him—’ 

‘Piss off,’ Boston spat at him. ‘I’m not drinking your revolting concoctions.’ 

‘Lie down, Boston,’ Plum said patiently. ‘Your wounds have barely closed, you’ll aggravate them.’ 

‘Where’s that cow? Why’s she not healing me?’ 

‘Milk is still resting.’ 

Boston barked a laugh. ‘I wasn’t talking about that mammal-feeder, you twit! I meant the halfwitted ringleader of this circus!’ 

Zongzi towered before them, visibly displeased. ‘This disgraceful behaviour makes you undeserving of being healed by anyone at all.’ 

‘Of course the sycophant shows up at the slightest insult to his precious lady. Where’s she, eh? We failures are not worth her time now? Furious because that Spectra hammered us completely? Why doesn’t she try fighting them, then? Bungling little fuckwit—’ 

Raindrop watched in shock as Boston was knocked back by the force of a Qiang’s hardwood shaft hitting his face. He’d been ignoring the stories about Zongzi’s devotion to their master, dismissing them as highly-coloured gossip, but in witnessing this act it was a dismay to be proved wrong. 

Yuxiang was shaking her head. 

‘Don’t look too surprised, Raindrop,’ she said. ‘Zongzi is perfectly willing to hurt anyone, even an already injured soul, in defence of our master. Even you.’ Then she smiled. ‘Anyway, Boston deserved that little slap on the mouth. He never watches his words.’ 

Raindrop felt a chill at seeing a purified Garuda suddenly appearing behind Zongzi’s shoulder, feathers bristling as it menacingly stared at the fallen Boston Lobster with its unblinking diamond eyes. 

‘Insolence is not tolerated in this house,’ Zongzi said. ‘My blades will wait until you are fully recovered, Boston Lobster. Your well-ranked derivation will not deter my fury, remember that.’ 

Yuxiang raised her brows. ‘Okay, now he’s just bragging. He’s been with the master since she was a child so obviously he’s better at utilising the master’s energies, while Boston’s been here barely a year.’ 

‘Really?’ Pancake said, voice muffled by the food in his mouth. ‘That explains why Zongzi worships her.’ 

Raindrop felt sorry for Boston, understanding the reason for his outburst, and a little envious of how the man could express his indignation so freely and explicitly. 

Boston sat up again, grinning with bloodstained teeth. ‘Who knew you had it in you? Of course, even if that dim woman allowed a Fallen to pummel you as she’d done with us you’d still lick her toes. Even if she becomes angry with you for getting thrashed when the fault is with her appalling lack of competence to lead!’ 

‘You try my patience, Lobster. Choose your next words carefully.’ 

Black Tea stepped in between them, her hand gently but firmly urging Boston to remain where he sat. 

‘Perhaps we should discuss this rationally,’ she said. ‘We were trapped. There was an Abyss Godsend blocking the way, and it disabled the master’s energy when the Spectra attacked us.’ 

Zongzi looked pained. ‘This is in the catacombs, isn’t it?’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ answered B-52. ‘Approximately 45 stories below ground level, in accordance to the mission file. The Abyss Godsend contained the area, denying access to Black Tea, Foie Gras, Vodka and myself. Tusu and Tom Yum went for assault, Sweet Tofu and Milk in support.’ 

Black Tea said, ‘They tried to drive it away, while Boston and Escargot covered the master from the horde of Forkers and Cimeters.’ 

Boston humphed, mouth curled in derision. ‘Why don’t you try asking why we were there? Oh, I’ll tell you – she wanted to show off to that tart Olivia’s guild.’ 

Zongzi glanced at him. ‘Are your ears working, Lobster?’ 

‘Just enough to hear your hypocrisy, sure.’ 

‘Then listen well,’ Zongzi said. ‘The master has been refusing the guild’s hunting missions for the past five months. This last mission came with an ultimatum: non-acceptance will result in expulsion from the guild. I’m sure you know what that means for us.’ 

Gasps and murmurs echoed around them, all of them finally understanding their master’s odd behaviour in the past week. 

‘Our master has gone to town to obtain purification units so that the vanguard will be better supported by a tamed Fallen,’ Zongzi said. ‘Now, understand that she was angry not with anyone in here, but with the guild for threatening our home, and herself for endangering you.’ 

Everyone saw how Boston’s face twisted in an even more ghastly display of rage and shock. But only Raindrop noticed the fright behind them, and he thought it was pitiful. 

He scanned the area, looking for and failing to find a specific soul. But when petals started to fall around them Raindrop knew that Sakuramochi, wherever she may be, had felt his plea. 

The woman beside him took a shuddering breath. 

‘It’s getting dark, Raindrop,’ Yuxiang said. ‘We should go in.’ 

Pancake steered the wheelchair to the entrance of the house. ‘Y-yeah. I should go help Jiuniang and Hawthorne with our dinner.’ 

 

-<>-

 

Their master returned as the souls were about to sit down for dinner. Raindrop was sitting on an unlit part of the remodelled deck, out of sight, when he heard her greet the souls and remark on their menu for the night. He guessed she must be back to her usual even-tempered self, what with cheerful quacking joining the conversation as the souls enquired after her trip, as though the incidents of the afternoon had never happened. 

When she began to coo over the ducklings Raindrop closed his eyes, blocked all conversation from the private dining room and resumed his meditation. 

Much later, all of the deck lights turned on, and the souls came out carrying drinks and snacks, their chatter filling the otherwise quiet evening. 

How long he’d sat there listening to the whispers of the autumn winds Raindrop wasn’t sure, but he was certainly disappointed his peace was interrupted. 

Zongzi approached him. ‘You weren’t at dinner. The master was looking for you.’ 

‘I don’t understand how my presence would be necessary.’ 

‘Perhaps you should ask her yourself,’ said Zongzi. With a gesture, Brownie was immediately beside him, holding a food carrier and a tall vacuum flask. 

‘The master hasn’t eaten yet, Mr Raindrop,’ Brownie said. ‘Would you kindly bring these to her?’ 

Raindrop eyed the tiered container with a slight frown of confusion. 

‘The master is in the laboratory,’ Brownie said with a quieter voice. ‘She’d told us to eat without her, that she was too exhausted from the trip. But when I went to tidy up after her bath, thinking she wouldn’t notice me when she was asleep… well, she wasn’t in bed.’ 

‘We’ve been ordered not to see her until morning,’ Zongzi said. He handed over the packed dinner, looking a little amused. ‘But you weren’t.’ 

Raindrop sighed. ‘Of course.’ 

‘Thank you, Raindrop Cake,’ said Zongzi. ‘The laboratory is inside the storehouse.’ 

Raindrop said nothing and rolled away, politely declining the invitations from the other food souls. The last thing he heard as he exited the deck was Zongzi telling the tipsy lot to keep down the noise for their master was already asleep. 

After crossing the other side of Peking’s artificial duck pond Raindrop realised he’d forgot to ask where the storehouse was. Irked with his own mistake, and not wanting to explore the large property in the dark and cold, he parked by the decorative stones and clutched the ring on his little finger. 

He closed his eyes and felt for the pull of the covenant. 

It led him a little downhill, to an old but maintained bungalow behind the rock on which the main house was perched, perfectly hidden by tall oak and birch trees. 

The pathway and exterior lamps were off but he could see light coming through the gaps of the door. He frowned, thinking it must be draughty inside that house despite the lack of windows. 

His entire body trembled when he entered, and he buried his chin on his scarf. Because the building was being used as food storage it was not only draughty, but extremely cold. The light that he saw from outside was from the refrigeration units covered by thick, transparent strip curtains. 

Cool vapour danced by his toes as he moved further inside. He found a room without a door, where he saw shadows moving and lights flickering. 

He also heard singing, and soft crying. 

It was a white-tiled room. He saw his master sitting in front of a steel desk filled with syringes, capsules and several crystalline pears all organised inside clear shelves. Above the desk were five tall cylinders suspended from the ceiling, filled with liquid, emitting different colours and energies. 

His master reached for the last cylinder, and in slipped a one-eyed brown embryo. 

She had her back to him as she resealed the cylinder, and hadn’t noticed his presence. She was humming random notes, her voice breaking every so often due to hiccups. 

Raindrop watched her dubiously as she wiped her eyes then laughed quietly to herself, and he assumed she must be a little inebriated. 

She reached for a stout bottle containing dark green liquid. Raindrop, not wanting to be responsible for a silly woman intoxicated by absinthe, went inside the room. 

‘Master.’ 

The bottle crashed to the tiled floor as his master whirled around, eyes rounded. 

When she realised who startled her she took a breath, calmed herself down. ‘Raindrop. You gave me a fright.’ 

‘Forgive me for the intrusion,’ he said, and didn’t stop himself from staring. 

Her tear-filled eyes were puffy, her nose and lips were red, and her cheeks even more so – whether from crying or embarrassment at being seen in her current state he couldn’t be sure. 

She turned away and discreetly wiped her eyes again. ‘What can I do for you? Must be important if you had to come out here—’ 

The cylinders above them gave a sharp crack. She looked up, puzzled. 

Raindrop went to her side as he noticed the cloud of mist coming from the broken bottle on the floor. It wasn’t absinthe, or anything remotely drinkable. The green liquid that spilt from it was crawling between the tiles, joining the murky water leaking from the cylinders above their heads. 

There was another crack. 

While his master tried to find the source of the leak Raindrop noticed veinlike fractures appear on the fifth cylinder, spreading from bottom to top. 

The glass fogged, and steam seeped through the gaps. 

Alarmed, he grabbed and shielded her with his parasol just as the cylinder shattered and rained glass on them, followed by a horrendous cry that shook the walls. 

An Uke Mochi emerged, tentacles squelching on the tiles. Its extensive tongue whipped out from a mouth filled with serrated teeth, and sent the bolted lab chair flying out of the room. 

Tentacles stretched out wildly to the walls as the creature expanded in size, staining every surface with slime. Its tongue, saturated with poison, swished to the air to feel about its surroundings. 

Raindrop felt his master clutch at him when the Fallen faced them with its numerous inky eyes, its usual humanoid head missing. It was larger, angrier, and the way it dribbled at the sight of them indicated pure hunger. 

It roared. 

‘It’s an _enhanced_!’ she yelled as the creature drew back its arms. 

Raindrop grabbed her again, narrowly missing several tentacles that smashed the floor. With a gentle push of energy he sent her to the far side of the room. 

He dodged another flailing tentacle, saw his master land ungracefully on the corner opposite his. She moved to stand, but immediately fell against the wall, her exhaustion seizing her.

Raindrop could tell she was frightened as she looked at her hands, one of which had started to glow with dark, poisonous violet and smouldering red on the other. 

But her energy was struggling to materialise.

He had no choice. He tightened his grip on his parasol and rolled forward to the centre of the room, facing the thrashing creature with a resigned scowl. 

‘Raindrop, no, come back here!’ 

She tried to stand again, but couldn't, as this time he'd secured her firmly to the floor with translucent fuchsia chains, which refused to break even when stabbed with her enchanted knife.  

The Uke Mochi noticed their movements, and immediately aimed its tentacles at the approaching Raindrop Cake. Dust and debris flew as the weight of its arms met the floor, and Raindrop was lifted to the air.

Precise strokes of lilac energy forked and blinded the room at lightning speed, splitting the air with a highly charged sound, all executed quicker than the mind could comprehend. 

The creature roared again, and then keened. 

There was an almighty thud, and the ground trembled. 

Raindrop floated slowly down to his wheelchair, guided by his open parasol. Petals of crystallised light rained around him, turning to sparkling dust as he landed on his seat. 

The Uke Mochi was motionless. It started to disintegrate, turning into white and brown specks that mingled with the dust and broken tiles. 

Raindrop turned to his master and found her looking at him anxiously. He folded his parasol, and the chains on her legs shattered. 

At once she ran to him, hands glowing green. She grasped his face, inspecting him left and right. 

‘Master,’ he said, taken aback. ‘Please—’ 

‘Are you all right? You’re not wounded, are you?’ 

‘Master,’ he said again. ‘I am unharmed. Please let me go.’ 

‘No,’ she said. She ran her glowing hands on him, only loosening her hold when she found nothing but tiny cuts on his arm. 

‘Okay. Now I’m sure,’ she said. ‘You’re perfectly all right, thank the gods…’ 

She released him. Then she slumped to her knees, her head falling against him. The glow from her palms went out and she sat there leaning on his legs, unmoving. 

Raindrop felt a wave of panic. He was sure he’d kept her out of tentacle range, away from that infernal tongue. Had he drained her energy when he finished off that Fallen? 

Icy dread coursed through him. Was the past repeating itself? 

‘Master,’ he said, his voice a near whisper. ‘You’re… not hurt, are you?’ 

She looked up tiredly. ‘Don’t insult your skills by asking me that,’ she scolded him, but her expression was soft. ‘I knew you were special. That was brilliant, what you did back there.’ 

Raindrop felt his ring pulsate. A torrent of emotions came with it – relief, worry, agitation, wonder. It invaded his senses, but any possible discomfort was washed away by a surge of affection. 

It was bewildering. 

‘I’m beyond impressed,’ she said. ‘Thank you for protecting me.’ 

Bewildering, but uncommonly, profoundly _warm_. 

‘You’re welcome, master.’ 

He watched her inspect the damaged laboratory, particularly the four remaining cylinders, which were unaffected by the accident and were still in the process of purifying the embryos of more Fallen Angels. 

‘I suppose that last one wasn’t well-built,’ she said. ‘What a mess. If that Fallen hadn’t done me in I’m sure Plum would. That cylinder wasn’t cheap.’ 

She looked at him. ‘That reminds me. Why are you here? I remember telling everyone in that dining room that I’m going to sleep…’ she trailed off, then looked miffed. ‘But you weren’t there, were you.’ 

Raindrop shook his head no. 

‘That Zongzi,’ she grumbled. ‘Of course he would abuse that loophole.’ 

Raindrop said nothing, finding himself amused at her reactions. It was absurd, as though almost getting killed by an enhanced Uke Mochi was merely an afterthought for her. 

He took out the container and flask from the side of his seat. Both were surprisingly undamaged and intact. 

‘I’ve brought your dinner, master.’ The suggestion of food while the Uke Mochi disintegrated in the chaos behind them seemed a little ridiculous, but it was the reason he was there. 

And perhaps she felt the same, for at the sight of the lurid yellow food carrier she laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't we all love Raindrop. His physical weakness merely emphasised the strength of his heart, and thus completely shattered mine. Poor man needs a new and happier life and so we’re sending him to this madhouse. :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Raindrop Cake suffering contact embarrassment in this madhouse.
> 
> hey @tiny-rabbert, your Master Attendant refused to cooperate. Why is she like this lol

‘Five boxes of tiles. Ten litres of paint. Paint brushes and rollers… no, we have enough of those. Wait…’ Plum Juice turned to the desk in the other corner of the office, the one Yuxiang and Raindrop Cake shared. ‘Do we?’

‘We don’t,’ Yuxiang said, not bothering to consult her records. ‘We haven’t exactly planned the destruction of the lab.’

Plum resumed writing. ‘Paint brushes and rollers, a dozen. Steel for the shelves and chairs, cold room equipment…’

‘Morning.’ Coffee walked in while knocking. After pleasantries were exchanged he showed them the contents of the folder in his hands. ‘The storehouse ceiling has fallen in just now. But the rest – walls, beams, etc – they’re still sound.’

Plum scanned Coffee’s damage report, the heavy costs of the materials making him wonder why they hadn’t organised an emergency fund in the first place. He flicked the beads of his abacus with a deep sigh. ‘Plasterboard. Plaster. 600mm panel lighting…’

Coffee tried not to laugh at the gloominess. ‘The refrigeration units have been salvaged.’

‘How many are repairable?’

‘All of them.’ Coffee took a page from the bottom. ‘I’ve got here a list of tools and implements Brownie requires. Brilliant job he’s done with the first fridge. I say it’s working even better now.’

‘Good man, him. I suppose the contents will all be disposed due to possible contamination. And that’s fine, of course.’ Plum’s expression improved, and the beads moved faster. ‘His tools and that priority order fee from Gold Tree Ranch are much acceptable expenses than new food storage units…’

‘We still need a replacement purification cylinder,’ Coffee added. He smiled when Plum’s face fell again. ‘Raindrop, look what you’ve done to the poor man. He’s about ready to cry from all the damage your heroics caused.’

Raindrop saw unmistakable dismay on Plum’s face, the worst of it felt by the unfortunate pencil on his hand. ‘I’m… sorry for cutting through the ceiling?’

Both Coffee and Yuxiang chuckled, but hers was visible: smoke came out in bursts from her mouth.

‘No, Raindrop,’ she said. ‘The proper reaction should be, “How dare you complain when I’ve saved you all from destitution!” that’s what you should be saying.’

Raindrop, already accustomed to her displays of false cheer, said nothing and focused on the papers before him.

‘She speaks the truth, you know,’ Plum said, eyes on the draft he was writing. ‘Had the master died last night, those of us who can’t fight would have been thrown to the streets. Some who can, to the guild.’

Coffee nodded. ‘They’d only be too happy to finally seize the property they’ve been targeting for the past few years.’

‘Thanks to Raindrop, they still can’t,’ Yuxiang said. ‘So box your stuff, Mr Manager, he’s taking your desk now. He’s earned significant authority in this house.’

‘He has, hasn’t he? With the means to abuse it too. But I trust our hero not to do such a thing.’

Raindrop felt their stares, knew they were expecting some sort of reassurance. Miffed at the suggestion that he would become supercilious after rescuing their master he said, ‘I am not a hero. Anyone would have done what I have.’

‘But not anyone could,’ said Coffee. ‘And you look all put together so I’ll assume she had healed you.’

‘The master hadn’t drained herself tending to my injuries,’ Raindrop said before any of them could imply otherwise. ‘Because I had none.’

‘None!’ Coffee said, amused. ‘That was an Enhanced, you know. Sometimes taken down by a team of five, often with a bit of struggle, and never unscathed.’

Raindrop felt his cheeks burn. ‘Forgive me, it wasn’t my intention to sound conceited. Perhaps the partial purification had weakened that Fallen.’

There was no such thing, they both knew. In the cylinders an embryo had two fates: be tamed or die.

‘Why not simply admit you’re not as weak as you look?’ Coffee said. ‘Then again that might be part of your charm. I must say, the master is rather taken in.’

Yuxiang said, ‘We’ve already got a jealous Zongzi. Now, you? How tedious.’

‘You misunderstand. I happen to like Raindrop Cake.’ Coffee unfastened their master’s seal from his glasses chain and gave it to Plum, who quickly stamped the bank draft and the pages that needed their master’s seal. ‘Where _is_ Zongzi? I hope he’s not stabbing himself as punishment for letting this happen.’

Plum shrugged. ‘Man jumped out of bed the moment he heard that bit of bother last night. Haven’t seen him since.’

‘Ah, of course he’s still with her. Probably asking her to stab him instead.’

‘What outrageous assumptions.’ Zongzi walked in, their master beside him. ‘I would never ask my lady to do something so crass.’

‘So you say.’ Coffee gave him an indulging smile, and the group fussed with pleasantries again. Then to their master he said, ‘Why are you here?’

‘It’s my office,’ she said, moving to her desk.

Raindrop noticed how she’d subtly removed her hold from Zongzi’s arm, and the way her jaw clenched as she sat down with a tight grip on the armrest suggested how much pain she was in. Their eyes met.

‘I’m surprised to see you here, Raindrop,’ she said, looking at the wide spreadsheets on the desk before him. ‘You’re doing… accounting?’

‘Yes, master.’

‘Not willingly,’ Yuxiang said. ‘Plum is punishing him for his wild behaviour last night.’

‘Then half of that should be mine,’ their master said, amused. ‘I hope you can forgive us, Plum.’

‘You are alive, master. Everything else matters little.’

Raindrop did not miss how her expression softened in appreciation of Plum’s warm regard before becoming neutral again.

‘I hate to think this is why you’re all working so early today,’ she said.

Coffee leaned on her desk, blocking her view of everyone. ‘Doesn’t matter how early we are. _You_ shouldn’t be up at all.’

‘I’m not returning to bed so don’t bother telling me to do so.’

‘Then I won’t,’ Coffee said. ‘I’m sure the doctor will tell you the same thing anyway.’

‘I don’t need a doctor,’ she said. ‘Zongzi has already patched me up. It’s just some tired muscles, easily fixed with a few pills.’

‘Or several strips of bandages and a pair of cooling patches on the neck?’ Coffee said, looking pointedly at the gauze dressing that peeked from her cross-collared ruqun. ‘Thought those loose clothes will conceal them? That I wouldn’t notice? You could barely hold on to me yesterday.’

‘That was yesterday. I’m better now.’

‘That’s your opinion. A doctor should determine why you’ve got a fever now—’

‘Enough,’ she said. ‘I’m fine. Stop insisting otherwise. No one dies of trifling fevers.’

Coffee gazed down at her coolly. ‘Has Zongzi raised you so poorly that all you know is to give out orders and that you’re unable to listen to proper advice?’

Raindrop had felt rather than seen the sudden frost in their master’s wordless mood. So did the other occupants of the room – Plum Juice and Yuxiang wrenched their attention from their work to the other pair in concern.

Zongzi placed himself between Coffee and her desk.

‘It will reassure us greatly if a human doctor would confirm your health, master,’ he said. ‘And as for Coffee’s comments… it would become truth if we fail to change your mind.’

The flinty expression did not improve, but their master’s posture became less rigid. From their countable interactions Raindrop recognised that as a sign of her relenting, even if against her will.

She averted her eyes. ‘Send for the doctor.’

‘Already have,’ Coffee said. ‘He’ll be here before noon.’

‘Thank you for the initiative,’ she said wryly. ‘Anything else I should know and do?’

‘Know that you have nothing to do.’ Coffee reattached her seal on his glasses chain and gathered his documents. ‘You have an entire day to be bored.’

‘A month’s worth of backlog couldn’t possibly disappear faster than having the paint in this room dry.’

‘We thought we were backlogged. Until Raindrop Cake found redundancies in our filing system.’

Raindrop felt his master assessing him, ignored it, and kept his attention on his work. It should not be his responsibility to tell her that they were _still_ backlogged, and that her share of the work had been merely divided between Pudding and the souls in this office.

‘I find it hard to believe that none of you have realised the problem before he had.’

Yuxiang gave a very indulging smile. ‘Well, master, one can say that it’s a case of new eyes finding what the old had missed.’

‘Or a case of overdoing heroics,’ Coffee said. ‘Go back to sleep. Your doctor wouldn’t be here for a few hours.’

‘I agree with the suggestion, master,’ Plum said. ‘Please rest and leave everything to us.’

‘I’d like to stay here,’ their master said, tone dry, ‘if to pretend I’m still needed in this house.’

‘How dramatic,’ Coffee said, moving to the door. ‘If you don’t want to rest, why not kill time by practising sweeter manners? That sharp look and clipped speech never did match your face.’

It was a testament to Coffee’s reflexes that the paperweight made contact with the swiftly-closing door instead of his head.

 

-<>-

 

Being the newest addition to the family Raindrop hadn’t got an actual role yet in the household, and so could be easily pulled from the tasks with which he’d been helping. And so when their master had relented at Zongzi’s insistence to stay and rest in the front room, Raindrop was designated as her companion while everyone else went about their daily responsibilities.

Raindrop had to admit that with its tall windows, fresh flowers and deeply-upholstered seats the front room was a better place to sit in than the stuffy office that smelt of newly-dried paint and tobacco smoke.

He and his master sat in companionable silence, the only sounds in the high-vaulted room were the occasional clinking of porcelain teacups and the soft taps of wooden chess pieces on the board table.

His bishop threatened the white queen, and his master looked surprised. Six moves later he realised it was a trap, and she forced his king open on two sides without an escape.

‘Master!’ Blurs of pink burst into the room, the doors hitting the walls from the force with which it was opened.

‘You’re all right!’

‘We were so worried!’

Raindrop winced at the high-pitched voices, and he rolled back a little while their master allowed herself to be buried in embraces from all sides, her hands patting the heads of the girls who sobbed against her.

‘That meanie Zongzi wouldn’t allow us to see you! Macaron felt so sad!’

‘Mother, thank goodness you’re not badly hurt.’

‘When we heard what happened we were so frightened we couldn’t sleep!’

‘What’s this, master? Why do you still have bandages? Why are your hands too warm? And your eyes, why are they puffy?’

‘Oh, my dear girls,’ said their master, pulling them closer, tighter. ‘I’m so sorry for worrying you all.’

Raindrop noted how different she was with them – her gaze, her voice and her movements were soft and gentle. All tender displays usually seen from affectionate parents, and not something he’d expect from the perpetually stone-faced woman to whom they all answer.

‘M-Mr Raindrop?’

Jiuniang, the smallest of the girls, was standing next to him. When Raindrop glanced at her, she sprang back and stuttered an apology. He could hardly believe that this nervous creature was, as he’d been told, the only one who could control Yellow Wine’s explosive anger.

He was reminded of what Sanma and Bonito Rice had said about handling frightened kittens. _Don’t look at them directly. But if needed blink slowly to gain their trust. If they’re trembling wait for them to settle down. Keep hands out of sight. Try to appear smaller._

The last one would be easy, as sitting in his wheelchair had already removed the height he had over her. He slid his arms inside his sleeves, and waited.

‘Erm, h-here,’ Jiuniang squeaked. ‘Please accept this.’

The little girl held a tin box at arm’s length. Raindrop didn’t move to take it, allowing her to step closer to him.

‘I-it’s dried osmanthus,’ she continued. ‘You can… you can steep them with black or green tea or… or you can hang a handful on your w-window. Erm, the scent will help you feel relaxed.’

‘...why are you giving this to me?’

She froze again. ‘It’s for… it’s for… I’ve been meaning to give you this w-weeks ago… since you’re our newest family member and all…’

Raindrop felt pressure on his ribs. Painful, but not in an incapacitating way, spreading from his chest to his limbs and making him feel a little weightless.

‘Thank you,’ he said quietly, accepting the tin box.

The girl beamed. ‘I hope you enjoy them, Mr Raindrop,’ she said, then turned to join her friends.

Raindrop stared at the box, tried to understand the gesture. Why was he being rewarded? For doing things expected of them all – to obey, to protect?

It made little sense.

‘Oh? And he accepted?’ he heard his master say. ‘See, I told you Raindrop is nice.’

‘Macaron wants to give something to Big Brother Raindrop too!’

‘Me too, mother. But I’m not sure what he would like…’

‘Why don’t you ask him?’ his master said, and Raindrop tensed on his seat. ‘But do it tomorrow, or some other day. Your Big Brother Raindrop is still rather tired from last night and he can’t handle you all.’

‘Why? Is he hurt, too?’ Hawthorne then wrinkled her nose. ‘He’s not like Mr Lobster, is he? He’s mean to the medics. Is that why Big Brother Raindrop is still tired? Because he refused to be healed like Mr Lobster? Because he likes to yell at others too?’

‘Oh, no, far from it. Raindrop is very polite, and…’ their master frowned. ‘What do you mean Boston refused to be healed?’

The girls eagerly told her what had transpired after she had left with Coffee, things that Zongzi had conveniently left out.

‘He also made Tangyuan cry!’ Macaron exclaimed. ‘That brute!’

‘Big Sister Milk tried to help him too after she recovered, but…’ Cold Rice Shrimp looked uncomfortable. ‘She lost her temper, mother…’

‘And she stuck one on him!’ Mooncake said, laughing. ‘Knocked him clean! Heh, serves him right.’

‘Mooncake,’ their master chided. ‘That’s not very nice. Boston can be a bit unfriendly, yes, but he’s not… he doesn’t exactly…’

‘He’s not what, mother?’

Raindrop watched her struggle for words.

‘Let’s just say that he does things for a reason,’ she said. ‘So we should try to be patient with him, okay?’

Later, their master had convinced the girls to ask Plum Juice for things to do, despite knowing for certain that the man would not appreciate the pestering he would receive. Raindrop observed her warily, unsure how to feel about this playful – if a little evil – side that she had allowed him to witness, and he noted to himself never to contradict her unless her life was in danger.

‘Raindrop,’ she said, and he hoped it was his level-headed master speaking. ‘Would you mind very much hopping down to the basement with me?’

He didn’t, and he wondered why she would even ask. It was his duty to follow wherever she wished to go and comply with whatever she wanted to do, like hiding inside one of the unused cupboards so that the chatty Tempura would not see them, or promising Napoleon a kilo’s worth of sugar in pastries if he would keep Zongzi or Coffee from knowing that she wasn’t resting in the front room.

Raindrop would obey her wishes, even going down a short flight of stairs to the basement. He silenced her hesitation by standing with his weight against the wall, then rematerialised his wheelchair ahead to the bottom of the steps. With the help of his parasol he landed softly on his seat, as he had done the previous night.

‘Clever,’ his master said. Then she took a deep breath. ‘Right. You’ll stay with me, yes?’

Again with the needless prompting. ‘I will, master.’

She pushed the basement door open, and they were greeted with a gust of frozen air. Raindrop trembled; the temperature was not natural, and as he pulled his scarf tighter he noticed traces of soul energy in the air that surrounded them.

The door closed behind them, shutting out the light from outside, leaving them with only the weaker lighting of the basement. When his eyes adjusted it showed him that the basement was actually a bedroom, a utilitarian space that had a large armchair next to a tall bookcase in the corner and a large bed where a bare-backed Boston Lobster rested on his stomach while Vodka sat beside him.

His master steered the wheelchair to the foot of the bed, and from that angle Raindrop saw clearly how Vodka’s hovering fingers kept a thin film of ice on Boston’s skin.

Sounds of fluttering came. A Siberian goshawk landed on the bedside table, head tilting in expectation.

‘Hello, Andrey,’ their master greeted softly as she sat on the bed. ‘I haven’t got anything with me now, sorry. I didn’t know you were here.’

The large bird seemed to understand, hopping to the headboard to watch them instead.

‘How is he?’ their master asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Vodka shrugged. ‘As he’s always been, proud.’

‘And his injuries? Has he been sleeping the entire—’

‘Obviously you’re not paying attention,’ Boston growled. He kept his eyes on her as he pushed off his pillow to fully face her, leaving streaks of blood in the otherwise white sheets as he sat up.

Their master did not wait, pressing glowing green hands on Boston’s ribs, and his wounds quickly began to close.

Vodka rose. ‘Come on, Andrey, let’s get you some food.’ She stopped in front of Raindrop. ‘What about you, Raindrop Cake, do you want to join us?’

‘No, thank you.’

‘Suit yourself. But are you staying here?’ When Raindrop nodded she gave a snort. ‘You will be driven to drink. Feel free to join me once you are fed up with these two. I don’t mind sharing my first batch of Medovukha with you.’

No sooner had Vodka closed the door than Boston’s hand clamped down on their master’s chin, pushing her down, fingers digging on her cheeks.

Raindrop rolled forward in alarm, fuchsia sparks forming around him.

‘Raindrop, no—!’ his master’s breathless voice stilled him. She continued to strain for air and movement as Boston’s weight pressed down on her. ‘He’s still hurt—’

A push of Boston’s palm covered her mouth completely.

‘Felt her fear, have you?’ Boston said to Raindrop. ‘Is your covenant telling you to kill me?’

Raindrop saw no reason to confirm the words even if they were true – his energies _were_ clamouring to be freed, to send Boston flying to the other side of the room. He kept silent, and tried to bear the unpleasant sight of his master struggling under this barely-dressed wretch.

‘What now, lad,’ Boston said. ‘You don’t always have to do what she says. Think for yourself.’

‘I’m standing down of my own accord. Please remove yourself from her.’

Boston grinned, releasing the woman’s mouth and easing off of her. ‘I like him. He’s not daft.’

She moved to sit up, but again she was pushed down, her breath catching when Boston’s large hand pressed against her injured shoulder.

‘But _you_ are.’ Boston roughly parted her ruqun, revealing the true extent of her injuries. ‘I knew it!’

She shoved him, her hand weakly glowing blue, and she sat up despite the pain.

Raindrop quickly helped her off the bed, and she adjusted her clothes and secured her modesty with the coldest expression he’d seen her wear.

‘How dare you undress me.’

Boston barked a laugh. ‘What’s there to hide? You’re built the same as your female ancestors, and I’ve had them all, you won’t be any different—’

She slapped him. ‘I don’t care what sort of preferential treatment you’re used to receiving but don’t expect any of it from me. _You_ have decided to stay here, and I’m only fulfilling my ancestors’ pledge to you out of duty to _them_. This is still my house, and I refuse to be treated with any less than respect.’

Boston towered over her, snarling, ‘How can anyone respect an incautious little halfwit? Look at you! You’re severely injured and yet you come here, expending more energy to mend me!’

‘That’s because you’ve been antagonising the medics who should be healing you—’

‘Are you that thick? You’re missing the point! I can recover in time, I wouldn’t die. But you almost did! You’d be ashes in a jar now if not for me and the cripple over there. This is why I can’t keep you out of my sight! You’re too fucking reckless!’

‘Don’t make it sound as if I haven’t given sufficient thought to avoid accidents like—’

‘You almost snuffed it twice! In one day!’ Boston had her by the arms, almost lifting her. ‘Who fucking does that? And what accidents? We didn’t slip in the catacombs accidentally. You _agreed_ to go there, and without proper contingencies!’

‘That’s why I’ve asked you to come with us!’ She snapped, finally raising her voice. ‘Because I know I can depend on you to keep us all alive!’

Silence followed, and Raindrop felt something subside.

But his master and Boston were still glowering at each other, all tight grips and heavy breaths.

‘You stupid woman… you should’ve told me!’

‘I shouldn’t have to!’

And so it went on. Raindrop loosened his hold on his parasol and allowed it to disintegrate, finally understanding what Vodka had meant. Discomfort filled him as he watched them, and he wished he couldn’t interpret the vicious pangs of emotions his master had at that moment.He rolled back as discreetly as he could, parking himself by the door with his back to the arguing pair.

There was another slap.

Raindrop tuned them out. Vodka was right. A glass of that Medovukha was a terrific idea.

 

-<>-

 

Raindrop caught his master before she collided with the coffee table. The incident with Boston had thoroughly exhausted her, had drained what little energy her fatigued body carried and, judging by how her fevered skin burnt through her clothes, had made her relapse.

‘Master, perhaps it’s best if you retire to your bedroom now.’

The door opened just as she curled in the sofa, her lethargic state giving no indication that she and Raindrop had even left the room.

The tray of refreshments that Zongzi carried was set aside the moment he noticed their master’s paler appearance, and he immediately reached for her, palms feeling the temperature from her cheeks.

She flinched. ‘Your hands are cold.’

Zongzi covered her in a thick blanket into which she had immediately burrowed herself.

‘If you’re tolerating my fussing then you’re truly as ill as I’ve suspected.’ He lifted her from the sofa, and she struggled wordlessly, weakly. ‘No more protests. You’re going back to bed.’

‘Raindrop…’ she murmured. ‘Where’s he?’

Zongzi frowned. ‘He’s right here.’

‘Zongzi… please make him a blend. White peonies. Goes well… with… osmanthus…’

Her head dropped against Zongzi’s shoulder and her entire body relaxed as she fell asleep.

‘Barely conscious and her concern is still for you,’ Zongzi said. ‘What have you done to my lady, Raindrop Cake?’

Raindrop glanced up and met kind and amused blue eyes – not at all the expression he’d expected Zongzi to wear with those words. ‘Er, we played chess.’

‘And did you let her win?’

‘...I wasn’t aware I was supposed to.’

Zongzi’s brows rose. ‘So you’ve beaten her?’

‘She’d won twice, sir. We’re at 2-2.’

‘But you’ve actually _beaten_ her. Unbelievable.’ Zongzi then smiled, adjusting his hold on their master and looking at her ever so fondly. ‘Her peers all think that a woman enjoying chess is a novelty, and always give her easy wins. So I must thank you for taking her seriously.’

 

-<>-

 

‘There you are!’

Raindrop released the knob of his bedroom door with a sigh. He’d yet to make his bed, as he’d been called to the office earlier than usual that morning. ‘Yes, Madam Yuxiang?’

‘The doctor is here.’

Raindrop didn’t bother to ask why his presence would be necessary. ‘May I leave this inside my room first?’

‘Oh, of course.’ Yuxiang released his wheelchair, smiling. ‘I’m sorry. I thought you were going to lock yourself in your room again to brood, that’s why I stopped you.’

Raindrop entered his room, left the osmanthus tin on his bedside table and quickly made his bed, glad that Yuxiang respected his privacy enough not to follow him or even have a peek at the mess inside.

When he returned outside he found her standing with Zongzi and Brownie before the oak double doors at the end of the hall.

He also heard Coffee’s soft laugh when he approached them.

‘This is no laughing matter, Coffee,’ Zongzi said. ‘We must hear the doctor’s instructions and take note of everything, or else the master will never follow them. You know how she is.’

‘Yes, and we also know how _you_ are,’ Coffee said. ‘You’ll nag her to no end, and then sulk when she becomes annoyed and refuse to talk to you.’

‘I do not nag _._ ’

‘I’m sorry, Zongzi, but you do,’ Yuxiang said. ‘And in her current condition I think the master wouldn’t want any of that. But that’s why I called Raindrop here to join us.’

Raindrop said nothing when four pairs of eyes focused on him.

‘Raindrop again, of course,’ Coffee said with a smile. ‘The new favourite.’

Zongzi shook his head. ‘Have I mentioned that even in sleep she asks for him?’

Raindrop stayed silent. Not this again.

Yuxiang moved beside him. ‘Oh, don’t mind them, Raindrop. They’re just unhappy because the doctor kicked them out of the room.’

‘For unfounded reasons,’ Zongzi said. ‘This doctor is being ridiculous.’

‘It’s not entirely unreasonable,’ Yuxiang said. ‘Our master would need to undress so she can be properly examined, so of course the lady doctor would want the men out of the room—yes, that includes you, Zongzi.’

‘Utterly nonsensical—’

‘If it’s so, then why is our very logical Brownie not complaining?’ Yuxiang looked at the younger food soul. ‘Tell me your thoughts?’

‘Common behaviours inside this house might not conform to the standards expected outside,’ Brownie answered levelly.

‘Speak plainly, lad,’ Coffee said with a grin. ‘Zongzi is too busy being offended to comprehend you.’

Brownie nodded. ‘If we insist to stay, it might reflect poorly on our master, since it’s improper for a man to be in the same room with a woman if she’s not dressed and if she’s not his—’

‘I _know_ that,’ Zongzi said. ‘All I’m saying is that I’m not a threat to my lady’s virtue, and this doctor has placed me in the same level as the ones who are.’

Yuxiang patted his arm in comfort but it was obvious she was trying not to laugh. ‘I’ll go back in. I promise to write every word from the doctor’s mouth so you’d have something to nag the master with. Why don’t you three go ask Plum for the doctor’s fee, hmm?’

‘And Raindrop Cake?’ Coffee said. ‘Surely the restrictions apply to him—’

The doors opened, and the doctor stepped out.

‘Doctor, that was rather quick,’ Zongzi said.

‘I don’t use leaves and prayers to heal. Of course I’ll be quick.’ The doctor eyed the group. ‘How many of you are in here again? I’m honestly astonished that the lady keeps food souls who can’t protect her.’

Zongzi’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

‘It’s a good thing she didn’t go into shock from all that blood loss. Her injuries were not minor, and she’s alive only because her internal organs were spared from any damage.’ The doctor flipped through her notepad and scribbled on them. ‘I’ve mended the dislocated collarbone and forced closed all lacerations. But the rest we will have to let heal naturally, as she’s too weak to absorb more foreign energy, and rapid healing will do harm than good. For now, let her rest. I hope at least _that_ you can manage.’

‘We’ll be diligent, doctor,’ Yuxiang answered when Zongzi remained silent.

‘I certainly hope so.’ The doctor handed Yuxiang a few sheets of paper. ‘Everything she needs is listed there. If you wish for your lady to recover, my instructions must be followed to the letter. Give her the first dose the moment she wakes up.’

Then the doctor turned to leave.

‘Oh, doctor, what about your—’

‘Your lady has hired me to have a look at the people in this village. So I’ll collect my coins when I’m finished with them.’

‘Allow us to assist you, then,’ Zongzi said stiffly. ‘The villagers haven’t seen you before, after all.’

‘Very well. I’ll wait in front.’

When the doctor left, Zongzi faced the group.

‘I’ll trust you to look after the master, Yuxiang,’ he said, didn’t wait for her to respond and started walking. ‘Come, Brownie, you must tell Napoleon that we’ll need his assistance. Coffee, please inform Plum Juice about the changes in the doctor’s remuneration.’

Raindrop watched them leave, and beside him Yuxiang did the same with a hand on her hip.

‘The master needs him, not me,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘Silly Zongzi must have taken the doctor’s words to heart, and now he’s going to beat himself up over it. The man can be so irrational sometimes.’

Raindrop found it difficult to agree.

 

-<>-

 

Ducklings scuttered about the office, impatiently chirping, all of them bumping their tiny heads against Raindrop’s ankles.

‘Ah, forgive the children, Raindrop Cake.’ Peking’s voice was placid, as was the smile on his face. ‘They haven’t seen the master in days and it’s making them restless. Bear with them, please.’

‘Of course.’

'But perhaps that’s why they flock to you. They’d like to know how the master is doing, since you’re with her most of the time.’

Raindrop watched the ducklings hop up and down his footrest, a few of them biting on his tabi, chirping louder to get his attention. ‘The master is recovering.’

‘Speedily, one hopes.’ Peking nudged the ducklings with his foot. ‘By the way, Yuxiang, a little bird came in. Here.’

‘That’s a guild missive.’ Yuxiang took the envelope. ‘It’s been barely a week and they’re already sending these? The master is still convalescing, for pity’s sake.’

‘Why don’t we open it. Might be nothing the master should be bothered about.’

‘And if it is?’

‘Then we shall task ourselves to be bothered in her stead.’

‘Makes sense.’ Yuxiang unsealed the envelope. As she read, her expression gradually darkened, and by the end she was staring at the paper dubiously. ‘But this doesn’t.’

The letter was passed around, creating varied degrees of dismay. It made Raindrop frown; the letter strongly recommended that The Diablerie should still contribute to guild operations, despite last week’s accidents, and that since their master was indisposed the guild would send a representative “for assistance”.

‘It’s not even addressed to the master anymore,’ Plum Juice said. ‘Sending a temporary Attendant, all because they believe she’s too ill to order us around.’

Yuxiang folded the letter carefully. ‘Not exactly an incorrect assumption, but it’s concerning how the kingdom’s so-called protectors care little for their members.’

‘That’s true,’ Peking said. ‘Now, I’d like to know what our hero thinks about this.’

Raindrop needed a few seconds to decide whether he should answer or not. Why everyone in this house seemed to enjoy putting him on the spot he would never understand. ‘Having someone else other than the master at the helm might not be a welcome idea to everyone, never mind how temporary.’

‘The master should be informed, then.’ Peking said. ‘Have her decide for us, as always. We’ll never know, she might refuse to obey orders again.’

‘Is it wise to risk expulsion?’ Plum Juice asked. ‘If that happens the guild _will_ take this house.’

Peking smiled, packing his pipe with Perique, taking his comfortable time. ‘They are free to try.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should have been uploaded weeks ago, but with the recent release of ARK Extinction my usual FoodFan time has been affected, heh.
> 
> Some prompts from tiny-rabbert: Brownie-of-all-trades, Coffee, Queen V, Crayfish and MA, reckless MA, More OP Raindrop.
> 
> @tiny-rabbert this chapter barely covers your prompt list ;_;


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